


Harry Oneshot

by merhoran



Category: One Direction
Genre: Breakup, Depression, F/M, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 16:24:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merhoran/pseuds/merhoran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a Harry oneshot based on a poem by Pablo Neruda, and the parts in italic are quotes from it.<br/>It is a bit sad, but I tried to make it as beautiful as the poem is.<br/>Please comment!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harry Oneshot

Harry likes going to small pubs because the cold doesn’t see him there, because the sadness doesn’t enter them. He doesn’t like dramatic or romantic films anymore, he doesn’t like melancholic eyes or glances at the floor, he’s tired of them. He likes drowning the sad things in his life with a warm coffee and the memory of her smile. But she didn’t use to smile much.

_Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms_

_my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her._

 

Harry hates winter. He hates how the gelid wind revolves and sings sad songs as it runs through the leaves, making her feel sad again. Making him remember everything.

She looked so sweet while crying, so weak and broken… deeply broken.

“Promise me you’ll be good.”

And she promised him. She promised him she’d be good, she’d be fine and content, but she broke her promise. You know? She isn’t a happy girl. She loves Harry, but it wasn’t enough.

_She came so quickly to him, and how sad was the goodbye…_

That’s why Harry likes going to small pubs and walking on narrow streets, because he can’t get lost in them like he did in her eyes, her steady eyes. How they stare at the immense night, wondering what’s behind the dark sky, wondering how far the stars are.

_How could one not have loved her great still eyes._

And in nights like that Harry liked to tell her that his love was as immense as her beloved sky, that the stars leaned down to kiss her closed eyes when she wasn’t even born, and she always replied with two blinks to fight the tears and a slight curl in her delineated lips.

_Through nights like this one I held her in my arms_

_I kissed her again and again under the endless sky._

It used to break his heart in thousands of pieces. Harry wanted desperately to know what did stars have, how could they have her so hypnotized, not being able to take her eyes off them. He would have loved to give her the sky, make her kiss it and taste it. Harry wanted to be a star so she would look at him; he needed to be a supernova.

_I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too._

Harry hasn’t slept in three days. He spends the nights looking through the window, to her stars, the only thing she owned apart from his heart. He asks them where is she, he asks them how is she.

“What are you doing, my girl? You aren’t crying, are you? You promised me you’d be good. Do you feel alone, my love? Are you missing me as much as miss you?”

He likes to think that she’s somewhere in the city looking at the stars too, thinking about him. It’s the only thing that makes him feel less sad, the ache in his chest less heavy. But sometimes he also has bad thoughts, thoughts that make him cry of anger and impotence, the ache in his chest starting to feel insufferable. That bad thought is stuck there, in his tortured heart.

“Maybe she’s with someone else.”

_Another’s. She will be another’s. Like my kisses before._

_Her voice. Her bright body. Her infinite eyes._

But Harry has hope; maybe he can forget about her eventually. He likes going out during the cold nights and find beautiful girls to lie on the floor and tell them that he’s everything the princesses he wants could ask for. They usually smile when he says it, they smile wide. And it makes Harry’s heart shrink to the size of a tooth because their smiles are beautiful, but they are not hers. Because she didn’t use to smile, but when she did…

Then Harry leaves without saying a word because his shiny eyes don’t let him do it, because his throat can’t talk. And he remembers the last hug, the last kiss, and wonders how and why did it end.

_I no longer love her, that’s certain, but maybe I love her._

_Love is so short, forgetting is so long._

Harry doesn’t know something, though. She should have told him, she should have told him too many things, but she didn’t. She never said that when she looks at the stars she does it because she loves him. Because maybe Harry doesn’t remember, but sometime he told her something that she will never forget,

“When you feel sad, when you’re not with me and you feel like dying, just look at that star right there. The big one, the one that always shines. It will always be there, just like me. Remember this, ok? I will be somewhere else looking at that star too and taking care of you.”

And she knew he wasn’t going to be there forever to take care of her, but she is sure about something: stars can shine even when they’re extinct. That star will be there forever. So in cold nights like that, when the gelid wind flutters and blows her hair, she likes to stare at that star and wonder how and why did it end.

“We have been through rougher times.” Harry remembers saying. “We can make this together.”

“Have you seen yourself, Harry?” She remembers replying. “I made you a sad man. I became you into a sad boy, way different than the one you were the first time I saw you. I stole your soul and I don’t know how to give it back to you, but I promise I wish I could. The only thing I can do is taking it away from you definitely, so you can’t even miss it.”

_We, of that time, are no longer the same._

Harry always tried hard to catch her attention because he never knew he already had it. He thought her heart isn’t his, but her entire body is. Her infinite eyes, her voice, her weak heart.

_She loved me, and sometimes I loved her too._

But please, I am begging you, if you ever see a girl with empty yet full eyes, and they are focused somewhere up, way up everybody’s head, go tell Harry. Run; don’t let him so sad.

Tell him that she still thinks about him.


End file.
